An Affair to Remember
by mindpalace hell charlottesweb
Summary: This is a johnlock story based on the movie An Affair to Remember with Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr. John and Sherlock meet on a world cruise, both engaged to someone else. They fall in love and agree to meet a year later in New York City at the Empire State Building, but something goes terribly wrong and they don't get to meet.
1. Chapter 1

All over the world the social media networks were jammed with news feeds that read something like this, "Sherlock Holmes to marry rich American Heiress Nina Summers, Nina has finally found her romantic destiny with the detective Sherlock Holmes, she is worth 900 million. Well, it doesn't take the world's greatest detective to figure out that 900 Million is a lot of cheddar in any language."

Nina wanted Sherlock to see the world before they were married, so she sent him on a world cruise. Sherlock walked on the deck of the ship, smoking a cigarette, he was bored and only agreed to go on this stupid cruise because Nina wished it. Sherlock was so preoccupied that he barely noticed when his cigarette case clattered to the wooden floor.

John Watson was getting married to a barrister that had dated him for years, she had groomed him, educated him in the arts and finer things of life, and so now John supposed that it was time to get married. Sharon was a wonderful person, so why didn't he feel more excited? When Sharon offered to send him on a cruise, John jumped at the idea. All these thoughts fled his mind as he bent down and picked up the gold plated cigarette case and started to hand it to the tall green-eyed man that stood in front of him.

Sherlock reached out his hand to take the case and then John snatched it back. "Hey, how do I know this case is yours?" John asked skeptically.

Sherlock smiled, "There is an inscription inside."

John opened the case and whistled, "I know just enough French to be embarrassed, this is frightfully intimate. It says something like,"Thank you for the four nights aboard the Gabriella."

Sherlock sighed and looked bored, "The Gabriella is the name of a yacht."

John smiled and handed the case over,"Hey, aren't you Sherlock Holmes? Why I've seen you on Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr and every social media site on the planet."

Sherlock smiled,"I was just beginning to think attractive people didn't travel anymore and then here you are."

John looked confused for a moment and Sherlock felt a flush creep up on his cheeks, as he asked. "You have me at a disadvantage what is your name?"

John still felt flustered, but he answered calmly, "John…Doctor John Watson."

Sherlock's eyebrows went up in surprise," A Doctor? Well, that's a comfort, in case I get sick or anything." Sherlock said as his voice awkwardly trailed off. "Well, Doctor Watson, are you traveling alone?"

John still felt a little overwhelmed but answered. "My fiancée thought a trip would be good for me," John said as he walked over to the rail of the ship and glanced into the dark crashing waves of the ocean.

Sherlock joined him at the rail and asked, "So, what is your story, Doctor Watson? Wait let me tell you." Sherlock said as he walked around John. "You recently got out of service in the Middle East, you went to school in London, your childhood was a sad one and you have one sibling. You've never been married before and you don't have any children."

"Good God, how did you do that? It was fantastic." John exclaimed.

Sherlock stood closer to John and was about to answer, when a ship's photographer with an iPhone took a picture of them both. "Oh no, I can't be seen with you. I mean you're famous and my fiancée would never understand." John said frantically.

Sherlock winked at John, grabbed the iPhone out of the man's hand and threw it overboard. "Hey," the man exclaimed.

Sherlock sighed and looked over at the man, "Bill me," he said in his most imperious voice, as he and John walked off.

"Look, it's no use our being seen together," John said as he backed away from Sherlock. "My fiancée wouldn't like it."

Sherlock nodded, "Nina wouldn't like it either. So, I guess that's it," he said, as he and John parted.

John felt cold and lonely and so he went into the bar to have a drink. As John sat down at the bar, he ordered a Scotch and Soda and was surprised when the bartender put a Scotch and Soda in front of him and then sat another identical drink next to him. John was about to tell the bartender that he only wanted one drink, when Sherlock sat down next to him. He looked at John and smirked, "Well, so much for us not meeting again."

John looked meaningfully at Sherlock as two women leaned in towards them in an attempt to catch a snatch of their conversation. Sherlock nodded that he understood and without a word they both got up. As they left, John couldn't resist flicking a drop of his drink on the side of the woman's neck nearest to him. Sherlock chuckled and as they left the bar, a brash American business boomed out at them. "Well, are you two having a drink together?"

Sherlock didn't answer as they both went the opposite way. As John made his way to his room, Sherlock had quickly snuck up behind him. John held his finger to his lips and motioned for Sherlock to come into his cabin. Sherlock came in and smiled at the first class accommodations, as he made himself at home in a plush chair. "Look here John, there's no reason why we can't enjoy the cruise together." Sherlock said as he pulled out a cigarette.

John felt weak in the knees, but none the less managed to speak, as he pointed to a photograph of a dark haired beautiful woman on his nightstand, "She wouldn't like it."

Sherlock put the cigarette back in his case and stood up abruptly. "Sorry, I guess I must be going."

John walked him to the door," Uh Sherlock, I hope you're not embarrassed."

Sherlock smiled. "No, it's alright. Goodnight, Doctor Watson."

John blushed and looked down. "Call me, John."

Sherlock stared unwaveringly into John's eyes, "Goodnight, John."

John sank down on the bed and sighed. "Jesus, it's just my luck to meet the gorgeous Sherlock Holmes."

John tossed and turned all through the night, as sleep evaded him. The next morning John called for room service, had a plate of Eggs Benedict, and a couple of hours later decided to go for a swim in the ship's Olympic sized swimming pool. After a few laps, John began to forget all about Sherlock Holmes. He was just about ready to get out of the pool, when his head bumped into another swimmer. "Ouch," John said as he irritably frowned at the clumsy swimmer. And then to his dismay and joy, there was Sherlock laughing next to him.

"It seems we are bound to meet," Sherlock said as he wiped a lock of curly wet hair out of his eyes.

John started to get angry and then joined Sherlock in laughter. "We are docking today. How would you like to go ashore and meet a lady?"

John splashed in the water and swam towards Sherlock, "So, do you have a woman in every port?"

Sherlock smiled mockingly at John, "The woman is my grandmother."

John smiled back mockingly at Sherlock, "Sure, I would love to meet your grandmother."


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock and John rode in a horse drawn carriage through the little town on the French Riviera and as they reached the top of the hill, Sherlock had the carriage stop. "Look how beautiful it is down there," Sherlock said as he smiled at John.

John laughed and said, "So you want to hear an old joke? If it's so beautiful down there…" "What are you doing up here?" Sherlock and John said in unison as they both laughed together.

The ride was over all too quickly and as John got out of the carriage and walked up the steps to Sherlock's grandmother's house, John marveled at the beauty before him. The house was white, with a red tiled roof and as they entered the bougainvillea strewn courtyard a collie ran toward them. The dog happily jumped up on Sherlock, oblivious to the silk suit Sherlock was wearing, and wagged his tail. "Good boy, good Figaro," Sherlock said as he affectionately patted the dog on the head. The dog jumped down and ran to Sherlock's grandma as she came out of a small chapel. "Sherlock," she cried with joy as she came over and took his face in her hands. "Sherlock, it is so good to see you and who is this?" She said as she glanced over at John. Sherlock motioned for John to come over as he introduced John to his grandmother. "This is John, a friend of mine from the ship." Sherlock said as he lightly put his hand on the small of John's back.

John looked around the courtyard in wonder and said, "This is so beautiful, I think I could stay here forever."

Sherlock's grandma smiled sadly at John, "This is a place for people to go to remember, it's not a place for someone as young as you, for you have yet to create your memories," Sherlock's grandma said softly as she reached up and touched John's cheek.

John flushed under her intense scrutiny and asked awkwardly, "The chapel seems so lovely, may I go in it?"

Sherlock's grandma waved him on, "Of course my dear, enjoy."

John went into the tiny chapel, crossed himself and knelt down in front of the little altar, as he looked up the sun from a small window lit up his face, and it was this ethereal setting that Sherlock saw, as he watched John from the doorway for a moment and then slowly he walked in, crossed himself and knelt down at the altar beside John and for once in his life, Sherlock felt in awe of another human being as he prayed beside John. After a few moments of prayerful silence, Sherlock and John went into the house where Sherlock's grandma was setting out tea things. John rushed forward to help Sherlock's grandma as she attempted to carry the tea tray to a small table.

Sherlock's grandma smiled up at John and said,"It's so nice to see a man that helps out with household things." John blushed and looked shyly at Sherlock's grandma.

They sat down at the tea table and after a few sips of tea Sherlock restlessly got up and announced that he was going to look in on the neighbor. Sherlock's grandma nodded and John fidgeted in his chair, unsure of what to say. His eyes rested on a landscape painting on the wall and he commented, "Why that painting is so lovely. Did you paint it?"

Sherlock's grandma shook her head, "Sherlock painted that."

John looked at the intricate details of the painting's seaside town and felt as he could reach out and touch the water of the shoreline. Sherlock's grandma watched John intently for a few moments and then said, "Sherlock, is an artist and a critic; therefore every time he creates, the critic in him tears his art down. He is always attracted to the case he hasn't solved, the art he hasn't tried, the person he hasn't met. It makes me afraid for Sherlock, for everything comes so easy to him that I am afraid that one day he will be put to the test. Life will present him with a bill that will be a high price to pay."

John nodded and was prevented from answering as Sherlock came through the door. "Well, did my grandma treat you right?"

John nodded and laughed, "Yes, she told me how you used to throw tantrums as a child when you didn't get your way."

Sherlock laughed and kissed the top of his grandma's head. "I still do if I don't get my way. Oh by the way I painted something for you grandmother." Sherlock handed a brown paper wrapped package and when Sherlock's grandma peeled the paper back, she gasped. For it was a picture of her late husband.

"Oh, Sherlock, it's wonderful," she said as she took his hand. "It makes me miss him, but it makes me happy too," she said as she lightly stroked the man's features in the painting. It was as if she touched the oil on the canvas, her husband would magically come to life.

John shivered for it was late afternoon and as the sun began to go down the chill of night slowly descended upon them. "Are you cold, dear?" Sherlock's grandma asked as she pulled a man's white cardigan from the back of a chair. "Here dear, wear this."

John took the cardigan and slipped it on. "This is a wonderful piece of craftsmanship," John said as he fingered the sweater.

Sherlock's grandma looked out into the distance and smiled, "Someday I will send it to you," she said softly.

Sherlock anxious to dispel the serious mood that had come upon them all, walked over to the piano. "Is my violin still under the here?" Sherlock said as he knelt down and pulled out a battered old case. He opened it up and exclaimed, "It's still in tune."

Sherlock's grandma nodded, "It was your grandfather's and I have a local violinist come and play it and tune it once a month. He is skilled, but nothing compared to you and your grandfather."

Sherlock held the violin up and smiled, "Grandma, join me at the piano," he said as he tightened up the hair of bow.

Sherlock's grandma shook her head, "Oh Sherlock, I can't really play anymore," she said as she looked down at her gnarled hands.

Sherlock waved her off, "Nonsense," he said as he grabbed a piece of sheet music off the table.

It was a beautiful Chopin Nocturne and John was thoroughly entranced with their playing, just as they stopped, the ship's whistle blew, shattering the peaceful tranquility of the afternoon.

Sherlock's grandma looked sad, "Time for you to go I suppose," she said as she hugged Sherlock and then hugged John as well.

As Sherlock waved good-by, it would be the last time he would see his grandma and as if she sensed it she blew Sherlock a kiss and shouted out as loud as she could muster, "Sherlock, I love you."

Sherlock didn't answer. He just stared straight ahead as the carriage took them back to where the ship was docked.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock and John avoided each other aboard ship to prevent gossip; however it soon became apparent that their efforts were futile. For that evening all heads turned as John walked to a single table in the ship's dining room in his dinner tuxedo, like an audience during a tennis match all the diners then swiveled their heads around to watch Sherlock's reaction to his entrance. Sherlock's breath caught in his throat as the head waiter showed John to a booth that was back to back against Sherlock's. Sherlock scooted back against the booth as John sat down, "You look magnificent tonight."

John's heart was pounding so hard, he felt sure that every person aboard the ship could hear it. "You look marvelous as well," John answered. "What do you recommend on the menu tonight?"

Sherlock held up his menu and whispered, "Avoid the chicken, stick to the fish."

The room full of diners could contain themselves no longer, as they all started to laugh. Sherlock smirked, "John, we aren't fooling anyone, come over here and join me."

John's face flushed slightly as he joined Sherlock in his booth. Sherlock stared at John for so long that John felt as if he were going to faint. "Suddenly, I don't feel hungry anymore, let's go for a stroll." John said as his fingers lightly touched Sherlock's arm. The heat from John's touch penetrated through his suit and Sherlock shivered from the effect. Unsteadily, he got to his feet and offered John his arm and then John got up smiled and took Sherlock's arm with pride. Once they were on the deck John felt jittery as the cold air hit his sweaty body. Sherlock reached out to pull John into his arm and then pulled back shyly. "John, you seem cold. I can hear the dance music starting. Would you…you dance with me?" Sherlock whispered, as he held out his arms.

John nodded and as Sherlock's arm encircled his waist, John had never felt so safe and so vulnerable at the same time. "God, this is heaven," John thought as Sherlock nuzzled his neck and even after the music stopped they both swayed in each other's arms until a child's voice calling for help drew them apart.

"Help, Help, I'm stuck," the boy cried out as Sherlock and John approached him. Sherlock was the first to reach him, but had no luck disentangling him as he pulled on his legs.

John laughed, "You've got him upside down, Dad, here let me," John said as he gently disentangled the boy and set him upright.

"Hey, the boy said, "Aren't you Sherlock Holmes and John Watson?"

Sherlock and John looked at each other and answered in unison, "Yes."

The boy looked up at them both and giggled, "Everybody on board is talking about you two."

John looked grave and bent down to the boy's level, "And just what is everyone saying?"

"They stop talking every time I enter the room, I don't get it," the boy said and shrugged.

Sherlock and John chuckled, as the boy held out his arms to John, "Give me a piggy back ride," he begged.

John pretended to put out and said, "Alright, just this once." The boy wrapped his arms around John's neck and off they went. Sherlock lit a cigarette as he watched them leave, "God, I envy that child right now," Sherlock thought as he inhaled deeply.

A few moments later John returned, slightly out of breath, Sherlock didn't say a word, as he continued to smoke, for he couldn't remember when he had last felt this overwhelmed, in fact he could never remember being this overwhelmed. John looked flustered as well, as he ran his hands through his hair. "What the heck?" John said aloud as his hands caught at something sticky.

Sherlock threw his cigarette down and walked over to where John stood, "Here let me take a look." Sherlock said as he sifted through John's hair, "It appears that the little bugger put a massive wad of gum in your hair."

"Bloody hell, how am I going to get it out," John cursed.

Sherlock laughed, "I have a pair of barber's scissors in my cabin. Come on."

As they walked back to Sherlock's cabin, John felt an increasing amount of nervousness building up in his stomach, so that by the time they reached the door, John felt as if he was going to be sick. Sherlock smiled back at John in the semi-darkness and motioned for John to come in. John hesitated at the doorway. "Don't worry I don't bite," Sherlock said as he pulled out a chair for John to sit in. John smiled back and sat in the chair obediently.

"I'm just going to get the scissors. Oh and if you don't mind scoot the chair up to the writing desk there is more light there." Sherlock said as he whisked out of the room. John put his arms on the desk and placed his head face down to rest on them. After a few moments Sherlock came back and approached John. "John, I'm going to have to cut some of your hair to get the gum out. Is that okay?"

John looked sideways up at Sherlock and said, "That's fine."

Sherlock put his cool hand on John's warm neck and then began to snip at the gum embedded in his hair. John felt chill bumps run up and down his arms as Sherlock guided the blade along his scalp. After he had cut most of the gum out Sherlock ran his fingers through the short tuffs of John's hair and massaged his neck. After a few moments Sherlock reluctantly pulled his hands away before things got out of control. "I think I got most of it," Sherlock said as his voice cracked.

John stood up and faced Sherlock, "Thank you," he whispered, as Sherlock took his hand and kissed it. John looked up at him; his lips slightly parted beckoning to Sherlock. "Jesus," Sherlock thought and pulled John into his arms and began to kiss him. After a few moments of such intense pleasure that Sherlock could never hope to repeat it; he pulled away from John. "You'd better leave now, unless you want to stay," Sherlock said huskily as he encircled his arms around John's waist.

"I'd better not, I need to think and I won't be able to do that if I stay, but let's not waste any time. We only have a few days left of the cruise and let's spend every moment together and then we'll come up with a long term plan." John said. His blue eyes sparkled as he gave Sherlock a chaste good-night kiss. "Tomorrow," John whispered.

"Tomorrow," Sherlock whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

Sherlock wrapped a scarf around his neck as he ran on deck to meet John. John was standing on the deck looking out at the skyline of New York City and Sherlock noted with sorrow that his face looked troubled. "Well, I must put a stop to that immediately," Sherlock thought as he wrapped his arms around John's waist and kissed him on the neck.

John turned into Sherlock's arms and smiled, "Sherlock…" John whispered and then cleared his throat before he totally lost it. "I didn't get any sleep last night; I'm scared but excited too."

Sherlock nodded and was about to say, "Me too," when his phone beeped stating he had a message. At about the same time John's phone beeped as well. They both looked at their phones read then messages and then swapped phones so that they could each read each other's messages.

Sherlock's message read: "Darling, can't wait to see you, I'll be waiting at the dock. Love Nina."

John's message read. "Sweetheart can't wait to see you, be at the dock counting the seconds."

As they both handed their phones back to the original owner, Sherlock and John felt the enormity of their situation bearing down on them. John was the first to speak, "John, I've been thinking, in addition to my detective cases, I want to paint and compose again. I mean both of us are definitely going to have some lifestyle changes. No champagne etc."

John smiled happily at Sherlock, "Well, how do you feel about beer?"

Sherlock grinned back, "It sounds wonderful. Now I was thinking where are we going to meet in New York?"

John thought for a few moments and then snapped his fingers, "I know in six months, let's meet at the top of the Empire State Building."

Sherlock nodded, "That will be like heaven…I mean that sounds sort of corny doesn't it?"

John loved how shy Sherlock was when he spoke. "Sherlock, I am already missing you."

Sherlock reached out to pull John into an embrace, but the loud speaker overhead announced that the ship be pulling into harbor soon. Glancing up in irritation, Sherlock frowned and rubbed John's arm. "We'd better get ready to face things, our ship ride is almost over," Sherlock said apprehensively he patted John on the arm.

John nodded, "We should make a plan B in case one of us can't make it. You know something dire, unavoidable"

Sherlock shook his head, "Nope, we'll be there come hell or high water," he said as his eyes devoured the sight of his sweetheart Doctor that he would not see for six months.

John gripped Sherlock's hand, brought it to his lips and then reluctantly pulled away to get ready to disembark.

As Sherlock Holmes, walked down the gangway, the area was full of photographers and news cameras waiting to catch every move he made as walked down the ramp over to where Nina stood waving frantically.

John stood behind Sherlock as the cameras blinded them both, after a few shots, John excused himself on the pretense of a special engagement. As he moved past Sherlock, Sherlock lightly touched his arm and even though his touch was light, it felt as if John's arm had caught fire, as he put his hand over the place in an attempt to memorize the feeling of Sherlock's touch on his arm. John looked through the crowd and waved as he spotted Sharon. Before he made his way over to where Sharon waited for him, John spared one more backwards glance at Sherlock. Sherlock caught his eye and even though he was being swallowed up by the crowd, Sherlock maintained eye contact with John as long as he could.

Nina chatted nonstop on the way back to their penthouse. "Now, Sherlock let me take a look at you. Hmm that purple shirt is a bit wrinkled, but it will have to do for the interview."

Sherlock snapped his head around to face her, "What interview?"

Nina smiled and signed, "Oh, Sherlock, you forgot? Well, no matter, my publicist will clue us both in."

Sherlock nodded and looked out the window as trees, buildings and cars rushed by and Sherlock's heart felt heavy, for with each tree, each car and each building that whipped by he was being carried further away from John.

Sharon studied John's face on the cab ride home, "John, I thought that the cruise would be good for you, but you look pale and tired. Is everything okay?"

John smiled absent mindedly and said, "I'm fine, just fine…"

By the time they reached their appointment John was exhausted and when Sharon opened the door, John turned on the T.V. and plopped down on the couch.

The show was some type of interview show and John leaned forward in excitement when he noticed that Sherlock was one of the guests.

Sherlock swatted at the makeup person, "I don't need that stuff."

The makeup person looked at Nina who just smiled benignly at the T.V. crew and shrugged her shoulders.

Without further ado the crew began filming and the interviewer asked Sherlock, "So, when is the wedding going to be?"

Sherlock stared pointedly at the camera and said, "Six months."

The interviewer looked a little surprised and asked, "Six months?"

Sherlock nodded affirmatively, "Yes, we will be married in New York six months from now and I plan to help support my partner by painting, composing, and detective cases."

The interviewer looked confused again, "You already have a house full of priceless paintings and art treasures."

Sherlock leaned forward, "It's just as I said I plan to get married in six months, and in the meantime I will work on painting, composing and my detective cases."

Sharon came and sat down next to John as he watched the interview, "I bet she never gets him to the altar. Hey, John, isn't that Sherlock Holmes?"

John nodded, "Uh haw."

"Wasn't he on the same cruise as you?"

John nodded again, "Uh haw."

"Was he handsome and irresistible?"

John nodded again, "Uh haw."

Sharon grabbed the remote and turned off the T.V., "John, what are you saying?"

John looked down at the ground, "I didn't plan it. We just fell in love."

Sharon and John didn't speak as they silently contemplated the bombshell John had just laid them.


	5. Chapter 5

6 Months Later

John ran down the street in a happy daze, for today he was to meet Sherlock Holmes at the top of the Empire State Building and they were going to get married. Breathlessly he ran into the posh shop where he used to buy his suits when he was with Sharon and he hadn't even been there five seconds when two sales girls pounced on him, "John, how nice to see you. It's been so long. What do you want to look at today? We just got in a shipment of Armani Suits…"

John smiled, "I just need a simple, inexpensive dress shirt."

The girls looked at each other in surprise and for the first time they looked at what he was wearing, John noticed their expressions and laughed, "I know, I know I didn't get it here."

The girls looked at each other again and smiled, "Okay, I will go and get you a selection", one of the girls said as she disappeared in the back.

Once she was out of earshot the sales girl picked up the phone and dialed a number, "Hello, Sharon, is that you? Well, I thought I'd just tell you that John is here."

The voice on the other end paused and said, "Just keep him busy I will be right there."

John sighed as the sales girl brought out one outlandish shirt after another until he firmly said, "I just want a simple white dress shirt."

John looked at the white shirt that the sales girl held out to him and he said, "That's fine, and I will pay cash."

Both girls looked at each again, "Cash? You don't want it on you and Sharon's account?"

John shook his head, "No, just the one shirt please and I will pay cash. I know I know you think I am crazy, but I am getting married…"

John stopped talking when he saw Sharon coming through the double doors and he shook his finger at the girls, "Now, I know why you tried to hold me here," he said as Sharon approached him.

"John, you look wonderful? How are you?" Sharon asked in an attempt to hide her excitement at seeing him again.

John took her hands in his and smiled sadly, "Sharon, I'm fine, but I'm in a hurry, I'm going to meet someone and we're to be…"

"Married?" Sharon asked.

John nodded, as he kissed Sharon on the side of the cheek. Afterwards she looked down for a moment and then caressed John's face, "I'm happy for you and just keep in mind if you ever need me I'll be there for you."

John nodded and then grabbed his shirt and waved goodbye as he ran out of the shop and down the street. As he ran closer to his destination, John felt as if the frantic pace of the city were keeping time to the beating of his heart. He ran parallel down the side walk so that he could see the Empire State Building from the opposite side of the street, "I'm almost there, I am almost there, Sherlock. Sherlock is the closest thing to heaven I will ever find, "John thought as he hastily looked both ways and darted out into the street. He never heard the car as it tried to screech to a halt, he never felt the impact of metal against flesh, and he never felt Sherlock's anger as he waited and waited for him hour after hour for a person that would never show up.

The rain pounded against the panes of glass that looked out onto the observation deck as Sherlock paced back and forth hour after hour, growing hurt and angry with each step he took. Around midnight a guard came over, "Sir, we're closing. Sir?"

"What?" Sherlock snapped.

The guard cleared his throat, "Sir, we are closing you are going to have to leave."

Sherlock nodded and rode the elevator down, and as the car sank further and further down, Sherlock felt that he had been played and he hated himself for ever letting his heart run his head.

John groaned in agony and tossed back and forth on the hospital bed, "God, please help me, Sherlock, Sherlock, please…where are you Sherlock?" John screamed just before he lost consciousness.

Sharon wept at the foot of his bed at the anguish that John was suffering and when the Doctor came in and told Sharon that it was possible that John would never walk again, she wept once more. A few weeks later John was released from the hospital with a grim diagnosis, as to whether he would be able to use his legs again and as Sharon wheeled John from the hospital she said, "John, why don't you let me tell him?"

John shook his head, "No, I want to be able to walk to him."

Sharon sighed, "At least let me help you out."

John shook his head again, "No, if I let you help me out, he wouldn't like it and if I got well and left you for him, you wouldn't like it. Plus, it's enough that you're flying back to London with me. Not to mention the job you got me as a consulting physician job in a clinic."

Sharon patted John's arm, "Okay, John."

Even though they were in first class, John was intensely uncomfortable during the entire flight, so that by the time the plane landed, a fine sheen of sweat stood out on his upper lip, for even the pain killers weren't helping.

"John, are you okay?" Sharon asked as she wheeled John through the airport and to a waiting cab.

"I'm fine just help get me to my flat, and I will be fine," John said through gritted teeth.

Sherlock was glad to back in London, far away from everything that reminded him of John for even though he and Sherlock were going to go back to London after Sherlock's case was over, Sherlock didn't know John's London address and John didn't know his, so it was as if the cruise had never taken place. Sherlock paused outside the gallery where his paintings were displayed and then sighed and went in.

The gallery owner, who he had solved a fraud case for a few years earlier greeted Sherlock with open arms, "Sherlock, come in, come in, I just sold another one of your women."

Sherlock chuckled as several patrons turned to stare at him, "Marco, which one did you sell?"

"The one with the ample chest, it was not your best work, but it was full of anger and appealed to the buyer, so that's all that matters, correcto?" Marco said as he walked over to another painting. His expression sobered, as he looked at a the painting of a young man in a cardigan sweater. Sun light bathed his face, as an older woman stood by his side, with her hands on his shoulders. "Now this painting is genius, it has an almost esoteric quality to it. The painter has left the angry stage and has come full circle to resolution and forgiveness."

Sherlock nodded, "I was clean when I painted that one."

Marco patted Sherlock on the shoulder, "Aw, my dear Sherlock, the art process is a painful one, is it not?"

Sherlock didn't answer for his throat felt swollen, and his eyes filled with tears, "John, why did you abandon me? What did I ever do to deserve the way you treated me?" Sherlock thought sadly.


	6. Chapter 6

John watched the snow falling out of the window of the medical clinic as the last of the carolers left, and even though he couldn't possibly hear their laughter, he could swear he heard them, high pitched, and joyous full of hope for the future. John smiled sadly for he didn't know whether to envy or pity them. His pain was severe and John shifted his weight in the wheelchair in a futile effort to get comfortable. After a few moments of twisting, grimacing and grunting, John gave up and just sat back and waited for a medical transport van to take him home. As he was waiting the head nurse came up and bent down on one knee so that she was eye level with John. John knew the gesture was meant to make him feel at less of a disadvantage, but all it did was make him feel like a baby in a stroller.

"John, are you sure you don't want to spend Christmas Eve with my husband and I?" The brown skinned nurse asked John. Her liquid brown eyes stared into John's deep blue eyes and for a moment they absorbed his grief, then her expression shifted and her mind moved on to happier things-Christmas things.

John smiled at her attempt, "No, I'm good for a warm quiet night at home is what I have been looking forward to."

The nurse nodded sadly for they both knew he was lying, as John smiled in assurance at her the nurse wavered for a moment or two and then with a gentle nod from John she bolted away from him, lest she become too immersed in his world of sadness, for no one wants to be reminded that his or her life could become tragically altered in a second. John watched her scurry past the window, through the falling snow, her figure briefly illuminate by the red tail lights of the medical transport van. A young man bounded in through the front doors, looked around for a few moments and then as soon as he spotted John he came trotting over.

"Are you waiting for the medical transport van?" He asked cheerfully.

John wanted to say, "No, I was just about to go bungee jumping." Instead all he said was, "Yes, thank you." Then like a helpless infant John let himself be wheeled up the ramp and into the van. The ride home made John feel like he was in a snow globe looking out, his own world a transparent imitation of the world he observed through the fogged over windows of the van. Soon the van was pulling up to the curb in front of his flat, another ride down the van ramp and another ride up the ramp to his flat, then after a few moments of John fumbling for his flat keys, the young man wheeled him inside. The flat was cold and John shivered as he rolled over and turned on the lights, a small Christmas Tree that his neighbor had put in the corner of the room, winked pathetically at John as he rolled over and switched on the multi-colored lights. John then let the young man settle him on the couch, and then he wheeled the chair on the other side of the couch, so that John could easily reach it, but so that he wouldn't have to look at it.

The young man looked around, anxious to be off, "Well, sir is there anything else I can do for you?" He asked and John smiled at the impetuousness of youth, for he could see that the young man's muscles quivered urging him to move on.

"I'm fine, thank you," John said as he sat up straighter in his chair.

"Right then, Merry Christmas," the young man said as he practically ran out of the dismal flat, leaving John to face the coldness of the flat alone.

John had just started to get warm when the doorbell rang. "Who the bloody hell could that be?" John thought angrily as he reached for the remote button that would unlock his door. Not bothering to ask who it was John pressed the button, the click of the lock slid open as John called out, "Come in."

John had assumed it was his good natured neighbor come to tuck him in like a child, but Jesus it wasn't the neighbor; it was… it…was Sherlock.


	7. Chapter 7

John's mouth stood open as Sherlock breezed in through the open door, "God he's magnificent, so full of life," John thought as Sherlock nervously paced the perimeters of the room, his long, black coat trailing behind him.

"Well, I was surfing the web for information on a case I was working on and I happened to run across your Blog, and so I violated a few privacy laws and thought, hhmm I wonder what my old friend John Watson is up to, after all I was supposed to meet him somewhere and I never showed up, so I must apologize." Sherlock said as he snapped out the words, making sure that John could not mistake the hardness in his tone.

John looked confused for a moment and then looked out into the distance, "So, you weren't there?"

"Nope," Sherlock answered not letting up on the pressure, as his steely green eyes bored into John's sad, dark blue eyes. "So, John, what did you do?"

John cleared his throat and said, "Well, first I was worried and then the longer I waited I got mad. Finally, I told myself to just go home and get drunk because I waited there until…"

"Midnight," Sherlock answered flatly.

"Oh…" John whispered.

"Midnight, where were you?" Sherlock hissed and then stepped back as he felt his control slipping.

John could feel the tears welling up in his eyes as he turned away from Sherlock, "No, more questions, please, for we said that if one of us wasn't there, that there would have to be a damn good reason."

Sherlock stamped back and forth in frustration, "So, I'm not allowed to ask a question?"

John shook his head, the tears openly spilling down his face by this time, "Please, let's change the subject," he begged. "Merry Christmas, Sherlock."

Sherlock stared back; frustrated for there was something about the situation he was missing, "Merry Christmas, John. Oh, I almost forgot I have something for you," Sherlock said as he handed John a brown wrapped package.

John took the package and looked down, "I don't have anything for you." He said as he carefully un-wrapped the package.

Sherlock shrugged and replied, "Well, it's not really a Christmas present."

John held the white cardigan up that had been Sherlock's Grandmother's, "Oh, so that' why my letters came back. I'm so sorry Sherlock."

Sherlock nodded curtly and then drew in a deep breath as he looked at John with the cardigan draped around his shoulders. "You know I painted you like that once, the Gallery owner said it was my best work. I thought I would never part with it, but a young man came in and wanted to buy it, he had no money, so I told the owner to give it to him. Besides he was he was…in a …in a …oh Jesus no," Sherlock whispered as he made his way to John's bedroom and threw open the door. There on the wall the painting hung, the angelic face of John wearing the cardigan as an ethereal light shone in his eyes-the eyes of an angel-his angel-John.

As Sherlock quietly left the room, he noticed the wheelchair backed in a corner, overwhelmed by the situation Sherlock tried to compose himself, after a few attempts he strode over to the couch where John lay. Sherlock didn't bother to wipe the tear that slid down his cheek as he took John's ice cold hands in his own, "Oh God, John, why did it have to be you?"

John gripped Sherlock's hands tightly, and in the nasal tone that Sherlock loved so much he replied, "No, No, Sherlock, just-ddon't blame yourself, for I was looking up when I should have been looking down. After all if you can paint, I should bloody well be able to walk, shouldn't I?"

Sherlock had still not moved as shivers of shock made his hands tremble. "John, I love you, I thought I would never utter those words-ever. John…marry me please."

John looked at Sherlock in dismay for how could he expect Sherlock to tote a cripple around town.

Sherlock looked back at John again, his eyes pleading, his integrity shattered, "John, will you marry me?"

The question hung heavily in the room, answered only by the hiss of gas from the pipes hidden behind the imitation logs in the fireplace.


	8. Chapter 8

"John, you did hear me didn't you?" Sherlock asked again as he paced around the room once more.

John nodded and then looked down at the ground, "Sherlock, I can't marry you. I mean how do you expect to keep up with your active lifestyle toting a cripple around?"

Sherlock stopped and looked at John as if he had spoken in Mandarin (No, that's not right for Sherlock speaks all languages), in an unknown language. "John, not to worry I will ring Mrs. Hudson, my I mean our landlady, so that she can get me the name of a contractor that can make the flat accessible for …for you. I've got it all worked out, so not to worry." Sherlock said as he clapped his hands together, refusing to accept defeat.

"Sherlock, I haven't said yes yet," John replied softly as he tried to track Sherlock's movements.

Sherlock stopped and looked at John quizzically, "John, we both know you will say yes, so I am just saving us both some time."

John laughed. "Sherlock, you are so arrogant, I should find it annoying, but somehow it suits you. Seriously, Sherlock, being caretaker for a partially paralyzed person is a lot of work, and I just don't see how…" John's voice trailed off for Sherlock was across the room in an instant, making John blink at the almost supernatural speed at which Sherlock ended up by his side. Sherlock stared at John's thin lips obsessively for a few moments as he took in every detail, the way they rested, the top portion slightly over bottom ,the way John sucked the lower corner of his lip in just enough to detract but not diminish its size. Slowly, he leaned forward and kissed John lightly on the lips.

John closed his eyes, as he waited for the all-consuming kisses that Sherlock had bestowed upon him while they were at sea, and was disappointed when there was only one gentle kiss. "Well, that was not like the kisses you gave me when we traveled last." John said jokingly in an effort to hide the rejection he felt by such a platonic kiss.

Sherlock didn't miss the underlying nuance of John's tone so he leaned in closer, as his eyes bored into John's. "John, if you think I don't find you desirable, then you are sadly mistaken, for as we speak I find it difficult not to lose myself in…in…you. Well, I suppose it would be easier to show you, wouldn't it?" Sherlock said as he gently tilted John's face towards his letting his full lips linger on John's cheek, then he inhaled shakily, pressed his full lips against John's, the kiss was gentle at first but increased in intensity when John's mouth returned his passion. After a few moments Sherlock pulled away, wrestled out of his jacket, threw it to the ground and resumed his kiss with John. After a few moments of the most intense pleasure Sherlock had known he reluctantly pulled himself from John's arms and stood up. "John," he muttered hoarsely. "John, I'm in the middle of a case and I have an art show coming up, so I have to keep focused, but know this I want you to marry me and I want to spend the rest of our lives together. I've been waiting for you so long, so John marry me and come home to 221b Baker Street."

John was still recovering from Sherlock's kiss as he struggled to breathe normally, "Yes, Sherlock I will marry you."

Sherlock winked and then jauntily strutted around the room, "How does day after tomorrow sound?"

John's head was still spinning from the turn of events that evening, "Sherlock, how could we possible get a civil union ceremony performed so quickly?"

Sherlock stopped strutting and smiled at John, "I'm Sherlock Holmes, and everyone in this city owes me a favor."

John laughed, "Even the Queen?"

"Especially the Queen," Sherlock smirked.

"Sherlock," John began softly, "Do you want to…to spend the night?"

Sherlock stopped and took a deep breath, "I will spend Christmas Eve with you, but John I am well I mean it's just that I don't...I mean I want to spend the night, but first things first, let's get married."

"Sherlock, are you telling me that you are old fashioned?" John asked.

Sherlock's cheeks flushed as he stammered, "Yes, I think so…"

John held up a hand, "It's okay Sherlock, all the other stuff will work itself out."

Sherlock awkwardly backed out of the main room went into the kitchen and when he opened the small refrigerator he gasped for there was nothing in it. "John, your ice box is empty."

Sherlock peeked around the corner and John looked down, "Sherlock, my land lady does the shopping for me and well I've already eaten so no need to worry."

Sherlock strode across the room, stood next to John just as John's stomach growled like a fierce beast. "John, don't lie to me. When was the last time you ate?"

"Yesterday," John whispered.

Sherlock looked lost for a moment and then he smiled, "Fine, we'll order in. John, I'm going to take care of you, I'm going to take care of us both."

John looked up into Sherlock's eyes, his hero, the love of his life and though Sherlock gazed at him in adoration, he also looked afraid for Sherlock had never had to care for another person and though the idea intrigued him it also scared him, for what if the worst happened? What if he became bored? What if he failed?


End file.
